Tick Tock
by madderreds
Summary: Ed goes out for a night on the town with the guys, and Al waits up for him to come home. Elricest, one-shot, dom!Ed/jealous!Al.


_Tick._

_Tock._

_Tick._

_Tock._

Al tries not to stare at the clock. He knows what time it is, practically down to the second. It is 11:03PM.

_Tick._

Ed—

_Tock._

was supposed—

_Tick._

to be home—

_Tock._

hours ago—

The ticking of the clock grates on his nerves. Al has never really thought of himself as the "jealous type," yet here he is, sitting at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers, waiting up for his lover to come home. Whenever the hell _that_ will be. He glances at the clock again—11:05PM now—and then silently berates himself for looking. _Tick. Tock._

Ed had been home for all of five minutes before nearly rushing out the door without a word goodbye. He'd been nearly out the door, jacket clutched in his fist, when Al had stopped him. A sheepish, apologetic glance over the shoulder at his younger brother—"just going out with some of the guys from work, Al." Hand on the doorknob. "You don't mind, do ya, Al?" Al had barely shaken his head before Ed was off, almost running down the hallway in his haste.

That had been five hours ago.

At first, it had been mere annoyance. Why the rush? Why the haste? And, in the paranoid back of his mind, why the secrecy? He made dinner, sat down at the kitchen table by himself, silently contemplating the empty chair in front of him. Then it had become anger, indignation. Why hadn't he been invited? He knew the guys, Havoc, Breda, just as well as Ed did. Did Ed think that he was too _young _to join the so-called "men"? He bristled at the though, just as he had when he'd been a child. _Of course I'm old enough. I'm not a little kid anymore!_

_Tick tock._

He tries not feel pathetic, waiting up at the kitchen table, tries not to think of suspicious wives waiting up for their errant husbands. He does, of course. Al grits his teeth at the image of Ed with another person—a man? a woman? Jealously burns in his chest, and he idly thinks of Envy. Then the doorknob wiggles.

Al sits up straighter, crosses his arms across his chest. The door bursts open, and in tumbles Edward, giggling like a madman. Ed leans against doorframe, still giggling like a fool while trying to close the door behind him. Al clears his throat. Ed jerks his head at the noise, and an easy grin spreads across his face at the sight of his little brother, arms crossed, his face thunder.

"You should see your face right now, Al," Ed slurs, breaking into laughing fits again. He saunters toward the table, nearly tripping over his own legs in the process. Al can feel his face heating up in frustration. Then the smell hits him.

Edward smells of alcohol—and of sex.

Al stiffens. "Where have you been?" he asks, biting off every word. Ed flinches at his brother's tone. He doesn't answer. "Where. Have. You. Been?" Al asks again, struggling to maintain his composure.

"Out." Ed meets his brother's eyes then, matching him glare for glare. "With the guys. I told you."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"The hell it doesn't, Al."

"Fucking hell, Ed," Al swears, slapping his hand on the table. He glares into Ed's sullen face. "Tell me where the fuck you were."

"I was at the strip club!" Ed shouts, goaded into anger. He slams his fist into the table, missing Al's hand by inches. "You fuckin' happy now?"

Al can feel a blush spreading across his cheeks and neck, although he can't figure out if anger, jealously, or embarrassment is the cause. "Well, that's just classy, Ed," he sneers. "I'm sure Mom would be proud of you."

They both freeze.

Al regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. He raises a hand toward Ed, wishing that he could grab the words out of the air and take them back.

Ed shoves him, knocking him off his chair. He blinks up at Edward, suddenly standing over him, his fists clenched and chest heaving. Slowly, he gets to his feet, testing his limbs for any soreness as he goes. Neither says a word. "Ed," Al begins—but is cut off by a fist to the diaphragm. He doubles over, wheezing.

When he finally rights himself again, he is met by Ed's furious glare. Ed curls his lip in—what? disgust? anger? Al doesn't know. "Don't you _ever_," Ed snarls, poking Al hard in the chest with a finger, "say anything like that again."

"I'll say what I want to you, Ed," Al cries, fired into anger. "Just like you do whatever the hell you want!"

Ed rolls his eyes. "I'll say what I want to you, Ed!" he mimics in a high, whiny voice. He barks out a laugh. "Christ, Al," he says, running his fingers through his hairs in exasperation, "what the fuck is your problem?"

"My _problem_?"

"Yes, Al. What the fucking hell is your problem?"

"My _problem_," Al snaps, "is _you_!" He shoves Ed, who, in his alcohol-induced state, stumbles badly, almost taking the kitchen table with him. Angry tears form. Al fists them away in frustration. "How the fuck am I supposed to feel, Ed," he continues, "when you just fucking _leave_, don't even tell me where you're going, and then come back smelling like booze and _strippers_?" In his anger, he brings back his leg, intent on breaking a rib or two with his foot—

Ed catches his ankle and gives a hard yank, bringing Al to the floor. Before he can right himself, Ed is straddling his hips, holding his wrists above his head. Al struggles against his brothers weight, curses streaming from his lips.

"Let me _go_!" he screeches, ignoring the twitching in his jeans. He growls in frustration, and opens his mouth to spit at his brother.

Ed kisses him before he can.

The kissing isn't like anything they've done before—it is rough, frenzied, each determined to dominate the other. Ed bits Al's bottom lip, drawing blood. Al bites back, harder—he _will_ best Edward, damn it. He thrusts into Edward's hips, unable to hold back a satisfied smirk when he feels Ed groan against his lips. "You little minx," Ed pants, and thrusts back, ripping a moan from Al's throat.

Ed smirks. "You like that, don't ya, Al?" he growls, freeing a hand. He trails his fingers down Al's chest, savoring the delicious sounds coming from his younger brother's throat. His fingers fumble with the buttons of Al's jeans, trembling with desire. "Answer me, Al," he says, before shoving his hand down Al's pants and grabbing his hard cock.

Al bites back a moan, writhing under Ed's weight. Ed loosens his grip, now tantalizing light. "Do you like it, Al?" he whispers. "Tell me now, or I'll stop." Al keeps his mouth shut, stubbornly holding on to his sense of dignity, even as he thrusts into Edward's hand, desperate for his touch.

Then Ed starts to move his hand, and Al cries out, "y-y-yes, yes, I like it!" Ed smirks, and squeezes Al's cock, hard, making Al cry out in pleasure.

"I thought you did, Al," he whispers. He pauses his ministrations, bringing a whimper from Al's lips. "Now listen to me, Al," he says, his voice low and rough with lust, "I want you to do exactly as I say." He pauses again, waiting. Al nods vigorously. "Good." He releases Al's hands, and sits up, still straddling his brother's hips.

"I want you to strip for me," Ed growls, another smirk forming on his lips. "Since you're so _jealous_." He pauses—another vigorous nod from Al—and then rolls of Al's body, settling his back against the wall. He watches as Al slowly sits up, his eyes glazed over with desire. "Well?" he asks impatiently. "Get on with it, baby."

Al can feel his blush getting deeper. Part of him wants to rage and storm, wants to leave the house in a huff. But instead of getting up and walking out the door, his hands rise to his shirt collar, and being slowly undoing the buttons. He shrugs off the shirt, letting it fall to the floor. The rational part of his mind complains about the wrinkles already forming in the fabric, but he leaves it there. His hands fall to his hips, fingering the seams of his jeans. He glances at Ed, still sitting against the wall, and at Ed's curt nod, starts to pull down his jeans.

"No, no, no, not like that," Ed says exasperatedly. He gestures at Al, sitting on the floor. "Stand up, put on a show for me," he says, and Al unsteadily rises to his feet, his erection pressing against the crotch of his jeans. Ed lets out a hum of approval, and gestures for Al to continue.

Al's hands return to his hips, and he slowly shimmies out of the jeans, swiveling his hips in an effort to look "sexy." A moan from Edward tells him that he's doing well, and he exaggerates his actions, repeating the same motions with his boxers. He looks at Edward again, and is transfixed by Ed gripping himself, his gold eyes fixed on Al's ass.

Ed grins. "Jealous, baby?" he murmurs. Al nods. "Then come here." Unable to help himself, Al gets on his knees and crawls toward his brother, his erection bobbing with the motions. Ed reaches out and grabs his erection, and with steady motions, moves his hand up and down Al's cock, drawing whimpers from his younger brother. Al reaches out and grasps Ed's cock with hand, mirroring his brother's actions. There is nothing but quiet panting for a few moments, each completely absorbed in their actions.

Al crawls into Ed's lap, only pausing his firm caresses for a moment. He captures Ed's lips with his own, quivering with lust. Ed's grip on his cock becomes firmer and his up and down motions faster, making Al moan with pleasure. He buries his lips into Al's neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. "Lay down," he pants. "I want to fuck you." The words send shivers down Al's spine, and he lies down, spreading his legs in anticipation. Ed crawls on top of him, his erection brushing against Al's. He opens his mouth to complain, or maybe to beg, when Ed's fingers fill his mouth. "Suck," Ed commands, and Al obeys. Ed's hand returns to Al's cock, and Al whimpers against Ed's fingers.

Suddenly, Ed's fingers are gone, and before Al can even process the change, they are penetrating him deeply, slowly stretching him out for Ed's cock. Al squirms against Ed's hand, the pain quickly melting into pleasure as Ed strokes deeper. Ed adds another finger. He moves slowly, watching Al's face for any signs of discomfort or pain. When there is none, he goes faster, in sync with Al's whimpers.

Al can feel his cock pulsing with pleasure as Ed's fingers go deeper and faster—but before he can orgasm, Ed's hand is gone. He lets out a low whine of frustration, thrusting his hips in an effort to reclaim Ed's pleasurable fingers. Ed chuckles and rubs the tips of his cock against Al's entrance, teasing Al—and himself, admittedly—with the sensation. Then, in one smooth motion, he buries himself inside Al. "_Fuuuck_, Al," he moans, almost ready to orgasm before he can even start thrusting. He crushes his lips against Al's, their lips moving feverishly together as he begins to thrust.

"Christ, Al," Ed grunts, his thrusts coming harder and faster, "there's no one else but you." Al closes his eyes, his pleasure mounting even higher as Ed's thrusts become almost frenzied in his passion. "You hear me, Al?" he growls. "No one else," he says, each word punctuated with a thrust.

"Brother," Al whimpers, "I-I'm, I'm going to—"

Al is suddenly enveloped in pleasure as his orgasm hits, stopping his sentence in its tracks. Ed only last a few moments longer, the force of Al's orgasm bringing him under. He swears and grips Al's arms as his orgasm reverberates throughout his body, making his arms and legs tremble. After their orgasms had passed, they laid there together, quietly panting, not moving. Ed rested his cheek on Al's chest, enjoying the feel of Al's warm skin against his own. His fingers twined with Al's, the scent of sex heavy in the air. "I love you, Al," he murmured, his voice fading as sleep began to fog his mind.

Al smiled faintly as Ed's steady breathing lulled him to sleep, his jealousy and anger gone. "I love you too, brother," he whispered, before closing his eyes and drifting into sleep.


End file.
